Almost
by md93
Summary: Sometimes, even what you don't say can make an impression.  One-shot, post Cajun Spice


_Firstly, I apologize for any OOC randomness going on. I don't even know what state the Institute is in, for crying out loud! Forgive my stupidity, please.  
>All characters belong to their respective owners, not to me. <em>

It rained for two solid days before there was even a chink in the clouds over New York, and that suited Remy just fine. Nasty weather was the best cover for the illegal and immoral, as Jean-Luc had long held it, and the weather had certainly been nasty enough to satisfy the old sinner's wishes. Though why on God's green earth it had to be so **cold**…barely sixty-five degrees. Remy pulled his trench coat tighter around him and took another long drag on his cigarette, but it didn't even begin to warm him. He threw it away impatiently.  
>"C'mon, Jean-Luc, what's takin' ya so long?" he grumbled.<br>He remembered now why he'd left "the family" behind in the first place. There was no room for argument in the Thieves' Guild. You said and did what you were told—even if that involved waiting for two hours in a rainy back alley while Jean-Luc was being fed caviar, in all likelihood.  
>It was another half-hour, twenty minutes of which was solid downpour, before Jean-Luc reappeared, looking notably pleased with himself.<br>"Good news, _garcon_," he said, chuckling. "De deal, she went through. Tomorrow we can get outta dis icebox and back to N'Wahleans."  
>Remy would have smiled if he wasn't wet, cold and hungry. It was a miracle that he managed to look interested. But what Jean-Luc said next surely was interesting.<br>"Ah've got an offer from our new partners for a friendly poker tournament dis evening, so Ah'm stickin' around. But you're dismissed, Remy. Jus' take de car and go have a good time somewhere else."  
>There were plenty of somewhere-elses in this part of town—bars, clubs, the kinds of things Remy normally made a beeline for. But as he gratefully took Jean-Luc's keys and walked away through the rain, he reflected that he had better things to do when in New York. Much better things.<p>

It was getting towards sunset when he finally found it. You would think a place so much on his mind would be easy to get to. Not so-he spent hours skidding around soggy backroads. But he had found it, and with good timing. The storm was letting up, showing tiny patches of blue sky through the curtain of iron gray, as he eased the car to a stop beside the back corner of a walled compound.  
>You could see the roof of the old Xavier house from here, dormer windows lined up neatly on the upper floors. That middle one was exactly where he needed to be. But first, to get there. He swung over the wall without the least trouble, landing silently in the garden below. He was just scoping out the various laser sensors and cameras when he heard it-singing, drifting softly from the patio straight ahead of him.<br>His heart rate rose noticeably. He knew that voice, that lovely voice, too well. Hadn't he been hearing it in his sleep? He dropped to his knees and peered through the thick screen of bushes.  
>And there, alone on the sopping wet patio, was the reason he'd come here, the reason for everything. Rogue.<br>She looked damp and dispirited and as Remy thought, irrevocably sexy. But then again, she was always sexy, especially when she didn't know he was watching her. Or listening to her. Good God, she had a voice, even when it was quiet. He'd give anything to have her say something endearing with it. But Remy had not come this far to simply stalk her from the shadows. He had to be closer. She had to know he was here. So he slipped a playing card out of his pocket, considered angles and trajectories for a moment, and then flung it.  
>It landed right where it was supposed to, and came to a skidding halt at her feet. She froze, then snapped her eyes up, by which time Remy was emerging from his hiding place. Her eyes widened as he came to her, but she didn't say a word until he was standing there before her, grinning.<br>Then she found her voice.  
>"What in the hell are you doing here?" she squeaked.<br>He grinned harder.  
>"Ah as good as told ya Ah'd be lookin' out for ya, <em>cherie<em>. But it's hard to do dat when you're a t'ousand miles away. So here Ah am."  
>She wasn't very happy with his reasons.<br>"Ah can take care of myself, thank you very much. Ah don't need you creepin' on me when Logan won't let me outta his sight."  
>Remy could have laughed to hear her say such things. As if she couldn't hand Wolvie's rear to him if she really wanted to. She was dangerous, in more ways than one. Those pouting lips, for instance, were driving the Cajun distracted.<br>He recovered enough to say," Well, Ah could solve your problem. Get you away from all of this, outta the cold, down south again. If ya wanted to."  
>Rogue knew his tricks so well. She scoffed at this one.<br>"No amount of smooth talkin' is gonna get me to do that again. Ah don't think much of you as a tour guide, and Ah know how your head works. One-track mind, that's all."  
>That stung a bit, even if it <strong>was <strong>true. But he didn't show that. Rather, he put on his patented sad face, the one that worked on everyone but her.  
>"Y'mean to say ya didn't miss me, p'tite?"<br>She didn't dignify his question with an answer. Instead, she got up from her chair, and tried to walk away. But that wasn't happening, not when he'd waited so long. He grabbed her upper arm, shrouded in fishnet sleeve and gave her a little tug closer. Her eyes were huge now, but not quite frightened. Just…feisty. He had to speak.  
>"Even if Ah missed you?"<br>Her expression switched from anger to something close to wonder.  
>"You're lyin'," she said. "You didn't."<br>Remy held her eyes.  
>"For once, <em>ma chere<em>," he said, "Ah be tellin' Gospel truth. "  
>He'd never really told her a full truth before, except for things about Jean-Luc. And she knew it.<br>Her lips parted; she might have said something more. But someone shouted into the silence, breaking the gathering perfection in two.  
>Scott was charging towards them, hand at his visor, gung-ho as always. He kept shouting as he came, things like "If you keep harassing her, we're going to kill you!" and "Don't think you'll get away with this!"<br>Remy kept his face from falling by allowing a smirk. Well, if Mr. Sunglasses-At-Night insisted on ruining his day, and possibly his life, at least he'd be able to wreak a little havoc before he left.  
>He quickly took Rogue's gloved hand and brought it to his lips, letting them linger there a little longer than necessary.<br>"_Au revior_, _ma belle_. Ah'll be around."  
>With that, he turned, grinning madly, and unleashed a full broadside of charged cards at the unfortunate Cyclops. Scott didn't see it coming, of course, and went down with a thump and a few more curses than anyone would suspect he knew.<br>Remy crashed through the bushes, vaulted to the top of the wall, and was just about to make good his escape before he looked back. He would remember the sight—Rogue laughing. Laughing at something he'd done. _Sacre bleu_, he'd made her laugh. That might be the best thing he'd ever done in his life. And with that to comfort him, he jumped in his car, jammed the pedal to the floor, and squealed away into the falling dusk.  
>But he'd be back. She had almost, almost said she'd missed him too.<p> 


End file.
